Afterlife
by M. K. Paine
Summary: Winnie Houseman has a secret. Severus Snape has a life of his own. How are they connected? Soon, they will discover how, but with what results?
1. Ch 1

_Author's Note: I was reading over _Afterlife_ and realized how amateur the writing was. It was actually painful to read, so I am going to edit and rewrite the story with the hope of developing the story and characters more, and removing details that have no significance. I deleted the following chapter because I do not want any new readers to be disappointed with the horrible writing of the original version. Happy reading._

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**Afterlife**

**Chapter 1**

It was almost one o'clock in the morning, yet Winnie Houseman couldn't sleep. Her exhausted feet carried her through the quiet and deserted corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been nearly almost four months since she had been in the castle, and as she walked, Winnie had flashbacks of the crumbling stones and shattered windows of the night the Dark Lord had been destroyed. Seeing it restored to its grandeur made returning to Hogwarts to complete her final year worth it.

Classes were to start the next day, or rather that morning, and Winnie was more nervous than she had ever been to start classes with the exception of her first year. The classes themselves weren't making her nervous, but the people she was about to face were. She had separated herself from this world for the past four months for the purpose to avoid facing what had happened to many months ago. She already had to face it in her dreams. She wasn't prepared to face it in reality.

She plodded along the moonlit corridors, reveling in the fresh cool air of the stone hallways. The castle was most beautiful at night when it was calm and empty. She loved the feeling of being protected by its strong, thick walls, but no matter how well the walls kept the horrors of the world out, they could do nothing to keep away the fears of her mind.

"Miss Houseman," said a smooth voice imperatively from the darkness. Winnie's heart thumped to a standstill. Of all the people she could meet in these halls, it had to be the one person she did not want to see.

The thin, tall frame of Professor Snape walked out of the gloom ahead of her. Winnie's eyes widened instinctively. The last time she had seen Professor Snape he had been unconscious and near death. Winnie couldn't tell if the snakebite had left a scar because of the darkness, but she was sure it had. Her eyes flicked to his for a moment, and then, to the floor.

"Professor Snape," she acknowledged, her voice shaky of its own accord.

"You are out after curfew, Miss Houseman," he said. Winnie knew it was coming. Snape could suffer dozens of near-death experiences and he would still remain in sarcastic and cruel self. She hadn't changed either, and she would try to explain herself.

"I know, sir. I couldn't sleep and went for a walk. I was just on my way back."

She could feel his cutting gaze, but she still wouldn't look up. "Be that as it may," he said coldly. "You were out after hours, and I believe a detention is a suitable punishment."

Winnie's head snapped up. "But sir," she protested, but stopped at Snape's raised eyebrow. "Yes, sir," she murmured darkly, glaring over Snape's shoulder.

"My office at noon on Saturday, Miss Houseman," he hissed. "Do not be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," she muttered sarcastically, and she started to walk away towards her room. Snape's voice brought her up short, though.

"Miss Houseman, I believe the Ravenclaw dorms are the other way," he said. Winnie glanced back at him over her shoulder and saw him smirking.

"I'm not staying in the dormitories, sir. There wasn't room, so Hermione Granger and I are sharing a room on the fourth floor," she said quickly. She strode away from him before he could reply. Her feet carried her swiftly through the castle, and she didn't slow until she was safely inside the common room of her and Hermione's common room. She sunk onto the sofa, leaning her head back. She closed her eyes and sighed in frustration at her hammering heart. "Damn it," she murmured to the empty room. The year was going to be a lot rougher than she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Afterlife**

**Chapter 2**

Winnie had been awake for over an hour when Hermione came out of her room to find Winnie sitting on the sofa sipping a cup of coffee. She hadn't been able to sleep for more than a couple hours before dreams of that fateful night roused her from her sleep. Lifetimes seemed to have passed since then, and Winnie had spent the early hours of the morning to reflect on the past four months.

After the battle and ensuing funerals, Winnie had been forced to return home. She had no money or resources, and the months with her family had not been easy. They had not forgotten the hardships of the year they had spent in constant fear and anxiety of being found by the Ministry. Her mother and father had made sure that she knew that they had not forgotten or forgiven. The tense atmosphere had almost reached an explosion when Winnie wrote to McGonagall with hopes of returning to Hogwarts to finish her education. With a final plea to her parents that if they paid for one last year, she would be gone for good and her future for one year was secured.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked when she saw Winnie's pensive face.

Winnie glanced to her side at Hermione who had sat in an armchair close to the sofa. "I'm thinking that detention with Snape on Saturday is going to be bloody awful," she said dully.

Hermione's head snapped up to stare incredulously at Winnie. "What? How in Merlin's name did you get detention already?" she asked in disbelief.

Winnie stared into the cold and empty fireplace. "I couldn't sleep last night and went for a walk. Needless to say, I was caught."

Winnie didn't need to look at Hermione to know she was looking at her with a smug smirk. "That should teach you not to be out after curfew."

Winnie snorted. "I'm almost eighteen, Hermione. Curfew is a ridiculous concept. Besides, I was not doing anything mischievous. I just needed some air."

"Next time, open a window, Winnie," Hermione said sternly. She stood up and walked out of the room, unquestionably to eat breakfast.

Winnie decided to skip breakfast since Snape would certainly be there, and she wished to avoid him as much as possible. With a resigned sigh, she put her coffee on the table and went to her room to prepare for classes. Today was an easy schedule with double Care of Magical Creatures in the morning followed by Charms in the afternoon. Since she was the only student to pursue N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures, the class was more like being Hagrid's assistant. She would follow him around and help him in his duties. He usually made sure that they were animal related, so Winnie could absorb as much hands on experience as she could.

She didn't much mind spending so much time running after Hagrid. He was great company and always had something important to say about some creature. Winnie could never understand his fascination for the dangerous creatures, but his love for anything that walked on four (or more) legs was touching.

Winnie glanced at her reflection before she left to make sure nothing was out of place, and came up short. The sight of her robes with the Ravenclaw embellishment was a startling sight. She had grown so used to seeing herself in Muggle jeans and t-shirts. A smile spread across her lips, though, as she gazed at the robes. She forgot how nice it was to feel like she belonged somewhere. She was so happy that, for a moment, she forgot about her detention, and nearly skipped her way to class.

_The week was easy. The first week of classes is always easy. One exception, though. Potions was bloody miserable, but not because of the subject matter. Merlin's beard! It was nice to brew Potions again, but Snape is just as insufferable as he always was. It will be a true nightmare having to spend Saturday afternoon with the man. He is just so cruel and unfair! To make matters worse, every time I am around the man, my wretched heart beats like a pixie is trapped in it. It has made me start thinking that I feel something different towards Snape than just indifference, especially since that night. I've found myself wondering how he would react if he knew what I had done. During the late hours of the night when the castle is completely dead, I find myself fantasizing that he would be grateful._

_Listen to me! I am mental! Snape is a bastard, albeit a glorious one. There is no denying it. I'd better be off. I've promised to help Hagrid record the unicorn population in the forest tomorrow morning, and the best time to catch them is at dawn or shortly thereafter. ~Winnie_

At ten to noon, Winnie walked into the castle from the grounds mentally groaning at her messy clothing and mussed hair. As she walked towards Snape's office, she attempted to pull her hair into a decent looking bun, but all she managed to do was make herself look even more disheveled. Before knocking she used the back of her hand to wipe her face off, hoping she got most of the dirt off. There was nothing she could do about the small cuts on her arms, or the tears in her jeans. She made a mental note never to go into the forest in normal Muggle apparel again, and then, she knocked, her heart starting to patter a little more quickly as if anticipating its acceleration in just a moment.

There was a bark of "Enter!" and Winnie opened the door. Snape was sitting behind his desk undoubtedly grading. Winnie walked to his desk and stood there silently until he looked at her. Those dark penetrating eyes met her for a moment before she looked away. "You are to make enough Draughts, Rejuvenating Draughts, and Energizing Potions to stock the Hospital Wing. There are ample ingredients on the table," he snapped, much more coldly than his normal tone.

Winnie stared at him for a moment in shock before she walked over to the table. She glanced at the books that he had laid out for her, and with a determined look, she set them on the floor. She knew the steps, she was sure of it. Without a moment's hesitation, she picked up a knife and set to work.

Even Winnie had to admit that brewing three different yet immensely similar potions was a difficult task. The instructions for each potion kept getting mixed up in her head, and more than once, Winnie had to snap her hand back from putting an ingredient into the wrong cauldron. Again and again she repeated the process of making three potions at once until there were no ingredients left for her to use.

With a content sigh, Winnie set her the last flask on the table and went over to Snape's desk. During her hours of potionmaking she had been blissfully ignorant of his presence, but now that she was looking at him she realized how quickly her heart was thumping. She clenched her fist and cleared her throat, wanting nothing more to get out of there. Snape looked up from his work, and Winnie's eyes instantly looked away.

"I finished, sir, or at least, I ran out of ingredients," she said nervously. She had no idea where her nerves had come from. They hadn't been there a moment ago, but the instant she tried to speak, her voice failed her, revealing her true discomfort.

Snape stood up and walked around his desk to the table. Winnie stayed by his desk, not wanting to be closer to him than she had to be. A few minutes passed as he examined each flask closely. Winnie twisted her hands in impatience, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when he said she could go. She scurried out of the office like a frightened mouse, not caring if her dignity was wounded in the process.

Winnie's heart did not slow down until she made it safely back to her room. She slid into an armchair letting out an exasperated sigh that roused Hermione from her schoolwork. She set her quill down and leaned back to look at Winnie.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked.

"Fine, boring. Snape made me make Potions." Winnie cracked her stiff neck.

Hermione winced. "I hate it when you do that." Winnie shrugged. "How was it being around Snape?"

Winnie shrugged again. "I don't know. The same as always I suppose," Winnie lied. "He's a bloody git, isn't he? I didn't expect him to be any different. I still find him completely intolerable."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you? I don't seem to recall you finding him to intolerable four months ago."

"That's not fair, Hermione. I did that because I had no choice. He didn't deserve what was going to happen, even if he is a git."

Hermione stared at Winnie knowingly. "Stop it, Hermione," Winnie snapped. "You really don't have a clue what you are talking about." Winnie pushed herself off the chair. "I'm going to shower. I smell like unicorns and potions."

Winnie strode away to the bathroom, Hermione's insinuations ringing in her ear. With a wave of her wand, Winnie had music lofting through the warded bathroom in a vain attempt to block out her thoughts. _Stupid git_, she thought before she magically increased the volume to a low roar finally managing to stop her thoughts about Snape and her wretched memories.

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_Author's Note: So I decided to try something new with Winnie and her journal. It's a way to look a little more deeply into her thoughts. Let me know if you like the idea. Thanks for reading and please review._


	3. Chapter 3

**Afterlife**

**Chapter 3**

The alarm next to Winnie's bed blared in the early morning light. She moaned and flung her arm out to silence the annoying sound. Rolling back over, she closed her eyes and fell back into a deep slumber.

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken violently by Hermione. "Come on, Winnie. You must get up! You'll be late for Potions!"

Winnie groaned and rolled over. "What?" she mumbled sleepily.

"You overslept, you nimwit! You have five minutes before class! Get up!" Hermione yanked the covers off Winnie, leaving Winnie to curl up in a vain attempt to keep herself warm. "Bloody hell, Winnie! Do you want another detention with Snape!?"

Winnie's eyes snapped open and her grogginess evaporated. She was out of bed in a flash, grabbing any clothes she could find, and pulling her robes on as she raced through the corridors. She prayed that Snape was late to class also, but she knew that she didn't have a chance. With a churning stomach, she opened the classroom door and entered the already busy Potions classroom. Winnie glared at Hermione, even though she didn't blame Hermione for not waiting for her.

Winnie's glare slipped away as Snape's own glaring face came towards her, and she suppressed a moan. She dropped her bag to the floor and waited to be reprimanded.

"You're late, Miss Houseman," Snape said silkily, his voice low and dangerous. The tone sent Winnie's heart into a whirlwind, pounding painfully in her chest. She mentally berated herself for being so ridiculous, and glared at Snape.

"Sorry, sir. I overslept," she said weakly, her tone not matching the ferocity of her face.

"I don't want excuses. I want you to be on time for my class. Another detention, I think, Miss Houseman. My office, Saturday, at noon."

Instinctively, Winnie's mouth opened to argue, but Snape snapped, "Take your seat and get to work, Miss Houseman."

With an angry huff, Winnie unloaded her ingredients, glaring the entire class at her work. While she was busy glaring and dwelling on her fury, Winnie didn't notice the glances she was receiving from a certain disgruntled Potions Master.

_I am such a fool! Why did I have to turn off my bloody alarm? Of all days! Detention with any other professor would have been bearable, but not Snape, especially for the second time. Hermione actually had the gall to suggest that I was purposefully receiving detentions with Snape, as if I actually enjoy the time. Granted, I love the potionmaking, but it means spending more time around the resident dungeon bat of Hogwarts! _

_I guess that I'm just bitter since I've never felt such nasty feelings towards Snape. It was always plain indifference when it came to my feelings towards him, but now I become infuriated with myself for my ridiculous reactions around him. I lose all sense of myself, and feel like a trembling first year when he so much as looks at me. I'm certain he must think that I've become an imbecile in the time I've been away from the wizarding community. Merlin's beard! Why the hell do I care what he thinks? He's just my professor; I shouldn't care what he thinks besides academically. But, I do. I care so much. Why do I care? ~Winnie_

The question haunted Winnie for the rest of the week, but only when her time was not consumed by her classes. To Winnie's disadvantage, she had always grown bored with school very quickly, preferring to be pressured by a deadline to complete her work. Instead, she focused on things that she didn't mind spending hours on: animals and, to her dismay, Potions. She couldn't take her annoyance out on her passion, but it was incredibly difficult for her to keep her mind off Snape while she committed Potion steps to memory. More than once, though, Winnie came across a particular theory that she didn't quite understand, but her pride prevented her from asking Snape about it. There was no chance of her spending more time around him than was necessary!

The second week passed like the first: quickly and easily. Saturday arrived far too quickly for Winnie's liking, and she was suddenly standing in front of Snape's office door. With trepidation, she knocked on the door and entered at the bark of "enter." Winnie glanced at him behind his desk, her nerves making it impossible to look at him for more than a brief moment. He motioned towards the table piled with ingredients.

"The hospital wing needs stock of Healing Elixar." The short reply was nothing unusual, but his agitated, almost uncomfortable demeanor was. She hesitated, but moved swiftly to the table, pulling her hair into a quick ponytail to keep it away from her face. She absentmindedly scratched the scar on the side of her face, by her eye and began cutting the ingredients for the elixir. It was a simple potion and much less complicated than making three different concoctions at the same time.

Her eyes slid across the table in search of an ingredient and flicked towards Snape. Her brief glance instantly became a full-on stare. The onyx eyes were glued to hers to a moment, and then she was in the middle of chaos. The castle shook around her. She was running down the Grand Staircase when a piece of debris crashed on her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. A painful slice by her eye brought her wand-free hand up to her face. When she pulled it away, her fingers were coated in blood, but it did not slow her in her desperate race through the castle.

A mental wall slammed down, and Winnie stared across the dungeon office at a shocked Snape. She, however, was not shocked. A bubbling pit of fury and terror welled in her belly. She flung the knife in her hand to the ground where it clattered noisily and fled from the room. The panic and anger in her urged her fleeing feet through the corridors until she slammed her suite door behind her, startling a studying Hermione.

"Winnie? Why are you back so soon?"

"I'll…kill…him…" Winnie panted. "I…can't….believe…"

"Calm down, Winnie. You aren't coherent."

"I will not calm down! The bloody bastard was in my damn head!"

Hermione shot up. "Did he see?"

"No. I stopped him before that. I just can't believe that…that… stupid, infuriating, cruel, heartless, mean, evil, moronic, disrespectful, bat-resembling, privacy invading man! What are you smiling about?" Winnie turned on Hermione.

The smile wiped away instantly. "Well…you must _really_ like him to be so infuriated."

Winnie spluttered. "You're kidding? I would never like a bastard like him!"

Hermione smiled smugly. "Whatever you say."

Winnie shook her head. "No, no 'whatever you say'. I _do not_ like him. He's so infuriating! I can't believe he would invade my privacy. I at least held enough respect for him to think he would respect a person's privacy." Her voice became suddenly weak with the sadness she was feeling.

"I doubt he intended to do it, Winnie."

"Does it matter? He didn't stop when he started." Winnie sighed and rubbed her face. "I guess I should get some homework done since it isn't likely that I'll be having any free time anytime soon." Hermione frowned. "Snape is going to give me detention every Saturday for eternity for running out today." Her voice was bored, but her stomach was knotted with anxiety.

Hermione laughed.

"Sure, you can laugh. You aren't going to be chained to the dungeons for the rest of your life."

Hermione chuckled and watched Winnie thoughtfully as she went to her room to find her books.


	4. Chapter 4

**Afterlife**

**Chapter 4**

Sunday dawned late for Winnie who had been up for most of the night doing homework, or rather, trying to do her homework. She was not entirely successful because of the constant distraction of her wired thoughts. Hermione's smug face floated in Winnie's mind like a roadblock to the goal of accomplishing homework.

Winnie fell in and out of sleep until noon when she struggled out of bed. She hadn't slept well at all. She tossed and turned with wild thoughts and memories from the past. She pushed herself to move to the bathroom through the dull aches of exhaustion. The hot water hit Winnie's stiff muscles with a relieving splash, and she sighed in release as the tightness in her back and neck loosened.

As soon as she had stepped out of the water and wrapped a towel around her, someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Winnie," Hermione called. Winnie hurried toward the door, slipping and sliding precariously across the cold floor. She cracked open the door and peaked out.

"What's up?"

Hermione slipped a piece of parchment through the door. "Snape dropped this off a moment ago."

Winnie took the piece of parchment with a disgruntled look. "Of course he did. Thanks." She closed the door and dropped the note, letting it float to the ground without a second glance. It gave Winnie a deep satisfaction to ignore the note and spend time on herself. She spent most of an hour simply perfecting her hair. She straightened every wave and styled it to perfection. Finished with her hair, she moved to makeup, applying it with slow, deliberate strokes. It was mid-afternoon when Winnie finally stepped out of her room, fully primped, and ready to read Snape's note.

_Miss Houseman, _

_You will have detention for the next month for your insolence. Be in my office at noon on Saturday. Do not be late. _

_S. T. Snape_

The note infuriated Winnie, and she was beyond controlling herself. She chucked the note across the room and stormed out of the suite. "Stupid git. Damn him." She muttered her way through the halls of Hogwarts, pulling the strap of her bag to her should agitatedly and staring at the floor in front of her.

The path to the library led past the staff room and when she turned the corner and saw Snape walking towards her, Winnie thoroughly regretted her procrastinating tendencies. She did not adjust the angry glare on her face, but she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the door to the staff room.

Victoria Emerson, the new Defense teacher, stood by the door, watching Snape with an eagle eye. That look in those perfect blue eyes unveiled a clawing monster in Winnie's belly that worsened her already horrible mood. With the monster came a feeling of utter hopelessness and loathing accompanied by pain and longing.

Winnie already did not like Emerson. The beach blonde hair, perfect tan, and grating voice was enough to send Winnie into a fit of annoyance. The constant peppiness and model figure ripped a hole of dislike in Winnie's heart, and suddenly that dislike turned into complete and true hatred.

When Winnie had leveled with the odious woman, she looked away from Snape's retreating form. "Miss Houseman," she acknowledged with a steely edge to her voice. It seemed that Emerson like Winnie as much as Winnie liked her.

"Professor." Winnie's voice was stiff and her fists clenched around the strap of her bag. She walked away swiftly, the boiling pit of anger and loathing simmering quickly. She had a feeling that she was going to be quite distracted from her homework, and she let loose a mental sigh. At this rate, very little of her homework would ever be finished.

Four more bloody detentions. It was the girl's own fault, but it wasn't just a punishment for her. He was going to suffer the next four Saturdays because she was so impulsive and disrespectful. He pushed away the small part of him that spoke of his own fault. In the furthest recesses of his mind, Severus knew he had committed the ultimate betrayal by entering the girl's mind. He could not, however, bring himself to take any responsibility for what had happened the previous night.

A foolish part of him dreaded the sight of those wide, innocent eyes when he knocked on the door to her suite. He prepared himself for Winnie's accusing glare and was struck dumb by the wave of undiluted disappointment that swept over him when Granger opened the door.

"Professor?" Her voice was polite, but she was sure to know what had happened the night before.

Severus glared and handed the witch the note he had written loftily. "Give this to Miss Houseman." He stalked away, still taken aback by the regret simmering in his stomach. For a moment, right before the door had opened, there was a spring of hope that sprouted within him, and he was forced to consider that he had been looking forward to seeing those sparkling chestnut eyes.

He had spent two very long hours staring at the same page of the Daily Prophet unable to finish reading one article. He kept seeing the furious, penetrating gaze that had momentarily entranced him. He shook the paper in his hands roughly to disrupt the image that had overtaken his vision and caught a glimpse of shimmering blond that had been hidden by the paper. He did nothing to repress the moan that rumbled in his throat when he recognized Victoria Emerson.

"Professor Snape," the abhorrent woman simpered.

Severus sneered. "Emerson," he said curtly.

"It's a shame we haven't talked much since the start of term," she said, sliding into a chair close to him.

Severus gritted his teeth. "It is a shame," he said mockingly. He shook out the paper, hoping she would let him be.

She didn't take the hint. Instead, she slid closer. "It is. I have wished to meet the great hero of the war."

"You've met him, Professor Emerson," Severus said scathingly.

Victoria laughed. "Oh, call me Victoria, Professor," she said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand.

"I'd rather not," Severus said stiffly. He stood and started towards the door.

She was not perturbed and followed him to the door, ignoring the cruel glare Severus shot her. "I was wondering if we could sit and talk about a Potions experiment I've been working on."

Severus snorted derisively. "I don't think so, Professor Emerson. Excuse me." He left the staff room and headed towards the dungeons.

"Perhaps another time," she called after him.

Severus gritted his teeth and kept walking, but he nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight of Winnie Houseman walking towards him. He finally got his wish to see those innocent, chestnut eyes, and he was right about that powerful glare. His stomach did an unexpected turn at the hate in her stare, but he made himself glare straight ahead and ignore her.

When he had left her behind, Severus became unwillingly aware of the pain that her hate had caused him. The bubbling in his stomach became an unwanted reminder of this sudden revelation. He wanted nothing more than to forget her, but he could not keep those blazing orbs from his mind. Only one question revolved around his head as he walked back to his rooms. _Why? Why did he care?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Afterlife**

**Chapter 5**

Winnie handed Snape her essay wordlessly in class on Friday. She took her seat and pretended to be intensely interested in the book in front of her. A few moments had passed when a hand penetrated her field of vision. Winnie glanced up, careful not to look him in the eye. He was leaning over her, his face only inches from hers.

"Do not forget your detention tomorrow, Miss Houseman." His voice was low and silky, and Winnie shivered and not from the cold air of the dungeons.

When he had walked away, Winnie's shoulders sagged, and she hung her head, her thoughts and feelings in upheaval. There could be no denying that his voice washing over her had sent her heart hammering painfully. After that, there was no hope to salvage the day. Her brain was in a fog; her thoughts weren't coherent. She paid no mind to the lectures going on around her drawing some angry glances from the teachers, but there was nothing Winnie could do.

The constant strain of her dwelling upon that one moment that morning in Potions gave her a massive headache. She flung herself into an armchair and conjured a warm towel to put over her eyes.

"Tough day?"

Winnie lifted a corner of the towel and peered at Hermione. "What does it look like?"

Hermione chuckled. "Let me guess. Does it have something to do with Snape?"

Winnie sank lower in the armchair and groaned. "The man is going to kill me with these detentions."

"Perhaps if you explained what happened, he wouldn't be so harsh."

Winnie rolled her eyes, but Hermione couldn't see because of the towel. "Who are we talking about, again?"

"I am certain that Snape, cold and cruel as he can sometimes be, would be reasonable."

Winnie scoffed. "The words "Snape" and "reasonable" cannot be in the same sentence without sounding absurd."

"Winnie," Hermione said sternly. "Stop avoiding the point. There is something more going on than a simple dislike of Snape. What is it that is truly bothering you?"

Winnie dragged the towel away from her face and frowned at Hermione. "It's getting strange around him," she said reluctantly. "I don't know what's going on, and that is why I'm so upset."

Hermione sighed. "Could it be that your heart is getting involved?"

Winnie flinched. "No," she said a bit too quickly.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Think about it. How do you react to him? Remember the final battle?"

Winnie huffed and stormed away, masking her fear and internal upheaval by angry. Hermione's suggestion lit a fire under Winnie's already exhausted brain.

_Could I actually _**like**_ Snape? I thought Hermione was just being annoying, but of course, her implication made me think. The idea has swirled in my mind all evening, and the more I think on it, the less mental it sounded. Memories have swirled in my head like a panorama, and I've been forced to accept that maybe she was right. With each passing day, I'm starting to regret a little bit more returning to Hogwarts._

The door of Snape's office was imposing and slightly terrifying. After last night's "revelation," Winnie was petrified to see him again. She couldn't stale anymore as it approached noon, and she forced herself to knock on the door. She entered, her eyes downcast, but she glanced up when Snape did not immediately speak. He was frowning at her, but the moment she looked up at him, his eyes hardened into a glare. Winnie glanced down at the floor.

"For the next four Saturdays you will be making Amortentia for me to show to my sixth years." Winnie dared to look at him, and she was struck by his almost relaxed expression. The glare was still in place, but the lines around his mouth had smoothed and he looked less stressed. His eyes had lost their iciness and resembled an infinite abyss that she could get lost in if she dared look into them.

She didn't dare to stare at him for too long in case he felt the urge to break into her mind again. "Yes, professor," she murmured and walked to the table of ingredients. Like the other potions Snape had set her, Winnie knew the steps to Amortentia by heart, but she had never made it; she had never had the need to make it.

This detention was like the first, but with one exception. Winnie couldn't prevent herself from glances at Snape occasionally. Her eyes wandered in his direction of their own free will. Hours were spent with her eyes straying to him, only to snap back to the table when she realized what she was doing. She heaved a heavy sigh in the late afternoon when she had done all she could do for the day.

She hesitated at his desk, and he looked up to her with his eyebrow raised. "I've done all I can do today, sir."

Snape glanced at the cauldron and then, back to Winnie. "Very well, Miss Houseman. You are dismissed."

Winnie hesitated again. "It will need some attendance this week…"

"I will take care of it." His voice was silky, and Winnie shivered.

She nodded, paused for a moment to look at Snape, and then, left, feeling confused and slightly ill.

Snape watched Winnie leave with a frown. The docile creature that had come to his office had not been the firecracker he had always known. He had not been surprised when she had started working without the aid of the book he had laid out. He was more surprised than before considering the difficulty of Amortentia. He glared at the thought of the potion. He hated making it, and was thoroughly relieved that he could shove the responsibility off to Winnie.

It was impossible not to glance at the girl while she worked. An annoying piece of hair kept falling into her face while she worked, and Severus had the insane urge to push it back, to feel the silky strands on his fingers. She took care of the hair herself, but it fell back into her face almost at once. He forced himself to look away from her hair, and his gaze instead back to the papers in front of him.

When she had informed she had done all she could, he had only glanced at the cauldron, knowing she had done everything perfectly. The girl was a perfectionist, almost annoyingly so. When she had been gone for a few moments, he went to dinner, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest that had started to develop whenever he was away from her.

The following two detentions passed as smoothly as possible considering the tension between the two in the office. Winnie was becoming increasingly aware of her growing attraction to her professor, and she had to often shake herself away from staring at him as he graded.

When the final detention arrived, Winnie was exhausted. Classes were brutal. She was getting less than six hours of sleep most night with many nights without any sleep. It didn't help that many hours were spent obsessing over her growing desire for Snape and her appetite was down to almost nothing a day. So, by the time her final detention came around, Winnie was like the walking dead.

The Amortentia was nearly done, and it was nearing midnight when she finished. Her eyes drooped dangerously as she stared unseeingly at the shimmering pearl liquid. They snapped open when she felt a warm body beside her. Her tired eyes slowly turned to look at Snape who was watching the cauldron.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, he turned his gaze to her, an eyebrow cocked. Winnie looked away as if electrically shocked and stirred the potion five times clockwise, once counterclockwise, and finally, four times clockwise.

With a heavy sigh, Winnie set the stirrer down and relaxed slightly. She took a couple deep breaths, happy and content for a few moments until she took a breath, and then, the most wondrous scent assailed her nose. It was a mix of freshly washed clothes, lavender and vanilla, and something musky that was familiar but she couldn't quite place. It was heavy and rich, masculine and wonderful.

She had forgotten about the man standing beside her for a moment until he walked away suddenly, his robes swirling the air around her. The same musky aroma washed over her, and her mind came to a screeching halt. She blinked stupidly, her mind overloading with information. The idea that she was attracted to Snape was just that, an idea. Nothing more, nothing less. There was nothing concrete to it…until now.

Her limp body fell to the ground in a dead faint with a soft thud. Severus turned around, curious and furious, thinking that the girl had knocked over the cauldron. When he saw the girl sprawled on the ground as if dead, his heart stopped. He was at her side in a moment, gripping her arm and feeling for a pulse. He felt a slight relief at the strong beat under his fingers. Without a moment's hesitation, he picked her up as gently as he could. He cradled her, amazed at how fragile she looked.

Severus walked through the halls as quickly as was safe with the unconscious girl in his arms. As he walked though, he became aware that her head rested perilously close to his face, and he realized that he could smell the scent from her hair and skin. It was such an interesting combination of vanilla and lavender, mixed with the vague aroma of potions. He had never smelled anything so remarkable.

Poppy was nowhere in sight when Severus entered the Hospital Wing. "Poppy!" His voice permeated the room, and he was shocked and disgusted to hear the fear and panic in it. A moment passed and Poppy appeared in the door of her office, looking concerned.

"Severus? What is it?"

"Winnie Houseman." He laid her down on the nearest bed. "She collapsed during a detention."

Poppy did not hesitate and hurried to the girl's side, her face lined with concern. The lines slackened after she waved her wand over Winnie's form. "There is no serious injury, Severus. It appears that exhaustion has overwhelmed the girl." The nurse turned her gaze on Severus, and he felt a trickle of guilt seep down his back at her accusatory words. He turned without a word and exited the hospital wing, internally in turmoil.

He slammed his office door with unnecessary force and began to pace his office with unwanted fervor. He stopped after a few paces, catching a glimpse of the cauldron full of Amortentia. He sighed heavily and went to it to bottle it. He had grown used to the scent of Amortentia over the years; it was always Lily. The sweet smell of her fruity perfume and the smell of a fresh summer's day like the one when he first told Lily of her magic. He was expected it when he went to the cauldron, but paused, his hand extended over the liquid.

The aroma emanating from the cauldron was not Lily's. It was new, unique, but as he breathed deeply, it wasn't completely unique. Lavender and vanilla, plus freshly washed laundry. He had smelled that before. It was the same as the perfume from the girl he had been carrying only a few minutes before.

Severus barely made it to his desk. He collapsed into his chair, breathing hard, clutching the arms tightly. He swore under his breath. He knew he hated Amortentia for a reason.


End file.
